


Combat Training

by wolfwars



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Combat Training, F/F, Fighting, this show is killin meeeee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:10:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfwars/pseuds/wolfwars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw teaches Root hand-to-hand combat training (flashback).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The boys leave early to go save another irrelevant together and Root wishes she wasn’t feeling a little put out without her own mission occupying her time today but that would be a lie. So instead she types away on the computer to do a little reconnaissance on their mission for them. However, in a matter of minutes The Machine is buzzing quietly in her ear and alerting her of the arrival of the one and only Sameen Shaw.

“ _Hello Sweetie_ —“ she chirps, twisting around in her chair. She feels a set of boxing gloves bounce into her lap and looks up, “Are we _playing_ today?”

“Root, if you keep bugging me I’m not going to do what I came in here to do and that is to teach you how to defend yourself.” 

The Ex-ISA crosses her arms and looks pretty determined. Root would like to add that she looks _pretty_ while she’s looking determined but she doesn’t—instead her mind is already swirling with the possibilities of training hand-to-hand combat with Shaw and she could argue that _no_ , she doesn’t _need_ to learn to fight with the help of her omniscient God watching over her shoulder but there’s also no way in Hell she’s giving up the chance to spend some time with her favorite asset.

“If you want to get physical with me, Sameen, you only have to ask.”

The Machines warns her that the levels of the probability of Shaw punching her are only rising so she quirks her lips up into a smile. Maybe the risk will be worth the reward. Shaw rolls her eyes but treks away from the computers and the desk and Root bounces up to follow her.

“I’m just curious, Shaw,” Root walks up slowly behind her, “What made you think I needed to learn how to fight?”

“Because you’re The Machine’s operative,” Shaw answered like it was a dumb question. She grabbed the tape needed for wrapping her hands but Shaw didn’t put any on her own. Instead, she gestured for Root to put her hands out.

“Root don’t you dare make a comment. I’m wrapping your hands because if I leave it to you, you're going to do it wrong,” Her eyes looked at Root in warning. Root complied happily and let her hands be gripped by Shaw's rougher ones. This day was turning out so much better than she could have imagined. Maybe she could sent Harold and John off _everyday_? Maybe these lessons could become a thing.

She grinned up at Shaw, not failing to hide her pleasure at this unfolding of events.

“What about the fact that The Machine protects me?” The way Shaw wrapped her hands reminded her of the way she taped her after she was wounded. Shaw did that too for her sometimes and there was always some gentle manner to the way she treated the team’s injuries. It made Root’s mind wander to other ideas, like if perhaps she was gentle at other times too and what faces could be roused from a patient, gentler Shaw.

“The Machine isn’t a person, Root. It can’t protect you.”

“But then I have  _you_ to protect me,” She let one of her fingers brush up against Shaw’s meaningfully. She was surprised it wasn’t moved away immediately. 

“I can’t always protect you,” Shaw answered, voice lower. She was losing her patience again so Root let her finish up wrapping her hands in peace (the pace certainly getting faster the more Root’s hands brushed together against hers in lingering touches). Root’s also pretty sure that Shaw’s meant to be at her shift at the make-up counter right now but it’s not terribly surprising she isn’t. The Machine informs her that her undercover persona had left early with an excuse that she was sick. That knowledge makes Root's stomach flutter. 

“We’re going to go through some of the holds, we’re going to try a Collar Tie which you should be a natural at, your always choking people anyway.”

The Machine whispers something in her ear.

“ _She_ says I should learn how to counter hook punches first,” as soon as the words leave her mouth, Shaw is raising one brow up and looking pissed.

“Tell _her_ to stop being such a backseat driver, I’m the teacher here.”

“Yes  _youu_ are,” Root purrs back, admiringly. She ignores the little voice in her ear for now but she’s curious to see who is right in the end. In combat, the Machine usually informs her about what it wants her to do. It didn’t choose Shaw, who already came with a life of combat under her belt, it went for Root and it must have had its reasons for that.

 

There may be a few problems with Shaw being her teacher… 

Shaw’s hands touch her waist to make her assume a better posture.

Root finds herself ruining her form even more. At all times… Shaw comes back and gives her another, warning, exhausted look and Root’s shocked she’s even still going at it. Their faces burn close and she just wishes… _wants_ to lean in and— 

She’s down. 

“Pay attention, Root!” Shaw warns her.

Oops, she’s down. Her body had twisted into the air before she could even blink and that’s because Shaw is an extreme powerhouse. But yet, it didn’t hurt at all.

She gets back up and then leans up to twist her hair into a ponytail. She watches Shaw while she does so and lets her eyes slip back and up to wherever she wants to. She may be down but this isn’t over. 

“Let’s try this again, Sweetie,” She bites out the last word with a bit of menace before Shaw is lunging again and this time…

The Machine is feeding her details: Tuck under and hit her in the ribs. Root is new to this but she’s not new to being under fire so she twists her body, Shaw ducks and then she’s shoving her wrist up into Shaw’s side.

The impact is good enough because this time Root doesn’t go down until Shaw is grabbing her arms and twisting her back around—A voice growls in her ear, “ _Nice try_.”

Root _could die_. She feels like dying right now. It’s uncomfortable being twisted around in Shaw’s tight grip but when she’d been joking about being physical earlier she really had no idea. She could feel every intake of breath, every movement of body and her body was hard against hers and—

Root let out a soft moan and that got her released _immediately_.

But Shaw didn’t act like anything had happened; instead she went back to drilling her. Too bad everything she said ran concurrent with The Machine’s more imposing commands. 

Shaw said go left. The Machine said go right. 

Shaw said duck. The Machine said to do an upper thrust. She upper trusted and the blow met but then Shaw was hooking her leg behind her ankles and she was back on the floor… chest heaving. Back sore. 

She wiped away at her now-wet hair with the back of her hand and took a minute. Shaw laughed, looking down at her. Her face was in full delight-mode but Root couldn’t say she minded, it was an attractive view after all and for someone who gets off on pain Shaw sure loves giving it. Root wants to say something to that nature but she’s too tired to speak.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you _this quiet_ ,” Shaw said.

She was getting pretty smug. She hasn't broken a single sweat this whole time and never had bothered to wrap her hands. It didn’t seem to matter. Root’s, on the other hand, were already bruising on the knuckles; she could feel it beneath the tape.

“Are we doing this again?” Root asked.

Shaw crouched down beside her and her face was lit up in amusement, dark hair messy from the fighting. Root's body is aching but she wishes she had enough physical endurance left to lean up and push her over. One, because she deserved to be pushed over and second, because she looked very, very good leaning over Root but Root  _just knew_  she'd look even better _under_ her.

“Yes. We’ll keep doing this until I’m confident you can take down someone who is _almost_ as good as me.”

“And how long will that be?”

“As long as it takes,” Shaw says, “And that might be a while but I’ll teach you everything I know which is a lot.” 

“And why would you do that?” Root asked, voice soft. Her eyes searched up into Shaw’s but Shaw seemed stumped on that question.

She didn’t look like she had any idea of what to say in response.

“Well,” Shaw lets out a deep cough and helps Root back up. Root takes her hand eagerly and lets her fingers swipe against Shaw’s palms, “You’ll never get any better from stupid talking so let’s go again.”

 


	2. Blips and Bruises

Shaw took a large bite of her cheeseburger as she quickly jotted down notes.

She’s not sure when she became so _invested_ in this. Even to the point of making up lesson plans to teach Root how to fight.

It might be the most recent fight—the adrenaline pounding, Reese running ahead and Shaw behind him. They hadn’t meant to leave Root vulnerable, but she was in the back. Where she was supposed to be safe.

But Reese and her, they see it on the camera. One of Samaritan’s nameless wastebag gunhires. Sneaking up nice and slow just to get his big stupid face knocked down.

With one of _Shaw’s_ moves.

(The whole thing kind of made her swell up with pride.) And so here she was, dipping French fries into her mouth and coming up with more and more things to teach Root. They rarely found time these days to practice. They’d only done it once or twice maybe and of course it was difficult.

 _Everything_ with Root was difficult.

She tells her to meet her at the subway after her shift and to ‘wear something you can fight in’ and Root shows up fifteen minutes late and dressed like a nun.

“What the hell, Root?”

“Don’t worry, Shaw,” Root tells her, already beginning to disrobe. 

“What the hell!”

The showing up late and in a state of undress was slowly becoming a part of the routine. 

She _did_ have suitable clothes underneath the habit but that was besides the point and it was clearly Root being Root. Her lips curled up in an evilly knowing smile. A wink as her fingers toy with her clothes, watching Shaw watch her. Not that she was…uh watching her. 

Shaw was serious about training her so why can’t Root just listen for once? So Shaw just kicks her ass extra hard that day. ‘Show up fit, or get ready to get hit’ was a motto she used to hear. Really piling into her. Trying to make her get serious.

But somehow it’s even worse, a thrown elbow misses its mark and gets Root square above the cheek. Leaving an epic bruise. 

The boys from her soldier days would have walked it off or made a joke. Not Root. She twists around, eyeing Shaw with a strange sort of fire. A flash of something in her eyes. She thought for a second that Root would hit her back but no, just a throaty…

 _“Was it good for you_?”

Shaw stared at her for a good second of shock before darting forwards to check out the wound. She really hadn’t meant to hit her. She leans over Root whose head tilts up to watch her, eyes not leavings her like its some kind of test. Maybe a provocation. Shaw’s not even sure what she’s started anymore.

 

“Are we playing doctor now, Sweetie?” Root shoots back.

Today she shows up in leggings, a tank top and sneakers. She shrugs and says, “I was a yoga instructor.” Her hair is already streaked with sweat and pulled away from her face in a messy ponytail. Shaw’s just relieved honestly. At _least_ her clothes are _on_ for once.

“What? Already worn out?” Shaw asks, swaggering towards her. That’s the last thing she needs.

“Me? Never.” Root smiles, nice and easy. Then stretches, “It takes a lot to wear me out.”

“I doubt that.”

“Almost too much stamina really,” her smile widens as she watches Shaw, “You might have to find some other ways to tire me out afterwards.”

“Uh huh,” Shaw folds her arms. She’s already appraising and she sees a few areas they could work on today. Yoga never felt like exercise to Shaw anyway, just a warm up. But Root already looks like she’s been through it.

And Shaw’s surprised to say that she actually kinda missed this. Sometimes its in too long in between missions and days like this…days where no one’s bleeding or dying…man they almost make her feel a thing or two.

But not really.

“Surprised you’d go with that big bruise on your face.”

Root acts all cloy for a second.

“I’d never hide anything _you_ gave me.” She says, sweetly. Root walks closer to her, wrapping her hands up expertly (though she’d pretended until the last time that she didn’t know how to do it. Just to get Shaw to do it of course.)

“Besides, I have some,” Root’s eyes peer up then back, “ _Extra_ aggression to work out today.”

“Hm?” Shaw perks a brow.

Her smile grows a little feral, eyes wild as she jokes, “Those Manhattan real housewives can be awful irksome. But I know you can take it.” Shaw’s surprised the whole thing’s not flourished with a wink. But she remembers the plans she made for coaching and she’s excited.

She’s not surprised this is another thing she feels like she must be perfect at. But Shaw used to help teach the newbies when she was in the Corps and then again as an Agent. Training came pretty natural to her. Most stuff did.

“Must feel like what it feels like to coach you.” Shaw holds back a smirk.

When Root’s done wrapping her hands up they start.

Shaw starts with a few easy moves just to warm up. Her eyes keep flickering to the mark on Root’s cheek until Root starts to notice.

“Like what you see?” she asks, in between kicks.

Shaw grunts.

“I’d like what I see better if you really nailed those kicks.”

Root looked momentarily annoyed before putting more momentum into the movements. Shaw nodded.

They switch over punches and Shaw hates this part. Hates the touching. She knows it’ll get a comment. So she walks over and puts Root’s wrapped hand in hers slowly, guiding her through a motion.

“You’ll aim here,” she guides the hand to her stomach to show, “In sharp jabs.”

Root nods, eyes transfixed.

“And then, as quickly as you can I want you to deliver as many hard kicks to the stomach as you can.”

“Mhmm,” she murmurs, but her hand uncoils just a little. Feeling through the stomach muscle there. 

Not enough to _really_ feel it but a light touch.

Shaw rolls her eyes. 

“Root this is a good move. You can do it.”

“Yes… I can...” She looks back up, FINALLY, eyes meeting Shaw’s. She looks a little guilty and Shaw figures she _should_ because this is a waste of valuable time. Valuable combat time.

And Samaritan is always there, inching closer.

Root stares at her. Bites her bottom lip in between her teeth. Shaw’s eyes flicker to the bruise. 

“Sameen…?” Root asks, breathing heavy.

‘And you say you don’t get worn out easy’ Shaw thinks. They’ve barely moved! Root’s screwed if she gets winded this fast. 

“What?”

Root looks torn, her lip biting only accentuating. “You won’t like it.”

 

“Obviously.”

 

“Well,” Root’s eyes dart back down, “Let me feel it for, like, five seconds. Five seconds and then I'll be good.”

“Feel what?" Shaw put her hands to her hips "My _stomach_?”

“Your abs, that’s all! Five seconds. I promise.” There’s that look again. A mixture of _too_ much determination and maybe she looks a little desperate. Desperate how, Shaw doesn't know.

Shaw could just hit her again.

She might actually.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Root nods.

Shaw groans then motions for her to get it over with.

Root looks delighted, leaning forwards to brush both of her hands flat against the muscles. Shaw can feel her fingers carefully exploring the ridges of her stomach. They slip in a little too seamlessly. As though they'd been there the whole time already.

**“ _Ohh.”_ **

 

Shaw’s never felt more like an animal at the zoo.

 

“Five seconds,” she bites out. 

Very, very Annoyed. 

Root’s hands move away reluctantly and she looks like she wants to say something but she must see the light of God or whatever or it’s Shaw’s lucky day because _she doesn’t_.

“I’m good.” Root says.

 

Five minutes later and she’s got Root pinned down.

 

“Don’t say a single word.” 

 

Root had the wind knocked out of her, so she’s more fortunate than usual when they land in this position. The brunette pants hard, below her. Skin burning hot from exertion. 

Shaw’s barely been touched. Fighting someone without the same training is a kind of high in itself. It’s fun to go back through all the things, the things you drove into your body. Formed into instinct. 

She’ll form it in Root’s body as well. 

Her hits a little harder, her posture a little better. Shaw is internally very, very proud. It’s like watching a plant grow. All that hard work. And to see it payoff.

Root lands a blow to Shaw’s stomach, knocks her down. 

She fumbles for a second before defending against Root’s next attack, slides her leg. Root lands on her ass and Shaw’s laughing.

She can’t help it.

“Oh stop it,” Root says. She sort of looks like she could laugh too. Her eyes hone in on Shaw and she looks sort of pleased, sort of proud of herself. It’s funny that Shaw’s proud of Root for becoming a better fighter. Root’s only proud of Root for making Shaw laugh.

 

Shaw extends a hand.

 

“Let’s go again.”

“You must really love to manhandle me,” Root winks below her, “You even offer your free time up to get me on my back on your floor.”

“C’mon Root.” She tries to force her up but Root is difficult. So very, very difficult.

“Or you could join me here.” She smiles again. Twisting her body up.

 

“Ugh.”

 

She finally gets her up and in retaliation, Shaw bends her arm and puts her in a stronghold. Root lets out a soft whine that his Shaw somewhere fast in the pit of her stomach. She feels the girl struggle against her and it makes her only feel slightly better about the whole being mocked for hours thing.

“Are we here to flirt or are we here to learn how to defend ourselves, Root?” Shaw asks. Voice stern.

“Why not both?”

“If your mind is on just one thing then you’ll be too distracted.” And they have to do this. Have to train. 

Gotta keep Root’s sorry little hacker butt alive in the field. In combat.

Root looks up at her, eyebrow raised, eyes alight with some destructive fun she intends to rain down on Shaw.

“Are you implying that my mind is so wrapped around the thought of getting you alone and naked that I can’t even bother to defend myself against death?” She purrs. Her eyes rake over the arms holding her against Shaw’s body and so… _point proven_.

“You know what I mean, Root.” 

“The clarification would be fun, though.” 

“I’m saying that…if you keep flirting then you leave yourself open to getting your ass kicked. And that person will kill you.” 

“What if I only flirt with you, Sameen?”

“That’s not even true. I’ve seen you flirt with other operatives.” 

Root breaths in, takes herself a second before saying her next distracting, difficult thing, “But what if it’s only **_you_** I want to flirt with?”

“Then you’re an idiot.” Shaw releases her arm and walks off. She feels Root trailing behind her though.

Like some kind of idiot lust-filled puppy.

“That’s no fun,” she pouts.

“Training session over. And next time I suggest you actually take it seriously.”

“Looks like I got under somebody’s skin.”

“I’ve got really thick skin. So don’t worry about me,” Shaw says back. Voice as sarcastic as needed.

“You’ve got great skin, honey.”

“Bye Root.”

“Bye Coach.” Root puts two fingers to her forehead and does a signature salute. It makes Shaw feel even angrier, her body unnaturally hot and itchy today. Like she could throttle something. Or someone. Someone named Root.

Root leans back against the wall and folds her arms, watching her go thoughtfully.

Step one. Get Root to not listen to The Machine over Shaw. Check: Success.

Step two. Get Root to stop flirting and take training seriously.

Fail.

 


End file.
